


Loth-cat, Loth-rat, Loth-wolf, Run

by shippingandrecieving



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Blind Kanan, Crack Treated Seriously, Eventual relationship, Force Shenanigans, Fulcrum Kallus, I love loth-cats okay, M/M, So much pining you could hang it up and call it an air freshener, Uhhh hoot hoot?, listen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shippingandrecieving/pseuds/shippingandrecieving
Summary: Hera rubbed at the ridge of her headtails. "That was close, we almost didn't-..." She broke off with a blink at the little furred creature held within the Jedi's folded arms. "Is that a loth-cat?"
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 48
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

" _This is fulcrum with an urgent and final transmission. I have been discovered, and am attempting to flee from my location._ "

In front of the microphone, Agent Kallus drew an unsteady breath, and tried to ignore the ache throbbing in his fingers where they were curled around the sides of the narrow desk in Bridger's tower.

 _What do I say?_ He frowned, feeling sweat gather on the back of his neck. He was running out of time to escape before Thrawn and whatever troops he had closed in too close for him to slip by. _Good luck? May the force be with you all? My name is Alexsandr Kallus and tell Garazeb Orellios-the Spectres that I am sorry?_

He swallowed down the nausea and anxiety that made his lungs refuse to fill slowly. _"Fulcrum out. Goodbye."_

Alexsandr flicked off the transmitter and scrubbed his hands over his face. He was certain all the caf, stims, and sleepless nights showed in excruciating detail upon his features. He still upheld his strict personal grooming, but to shed all lies that was more so Thrawn and Pryce wouldn't be able to tell he was the spy simply by looking at him.

He dragged his gloved fingertips down his gaunt cheeks and glanced around the room he had already checked thrice over. Everything connecting the tower to the rebels had been wiped, and the comm equipment itself was trapped with enough data viruses to overload multiple Imperial systems several times over.

It was as good as he'd get it.

Darkness was his cover against regular storm troopers, he'd have no luck with open stealth against death troopers with night vision visors, and a seething Grand Admiral who's eyes picked up infrared, but it was his only immediate safety.

Kallus slung his satchel over his shoulder from where it sat safely tucked against his ankles, and crept to the open door, blaster at the ready.

"You're a rebel now, Alexsandr, have hope." He mouthed, feeling the first tightening coils of desperation wrap around his throat like a noose. He slowed and controlled his uneven breaths to the mantra of 'have hope, have hope...'.

Outside, silence and starlight waited for him. Kallus stepped out with cautious slowness into the nothingness of rustling grass and soft caresses of a nighttime breeze. He allowed himself one more deep and mustering exhale before springing into action.

He holstered the blaster and swung over the railing to mount the ladder, skidding downwards with his feet curled around it's sides. The roughened old metal shredded the leather of his gloves and the old Kallus loyal to the Empire and their lies would have been disgusted at the flaw in his pristine appearance. What were a pair of standard issue _gloves_ against innocent lives.

His torn up pair still whipped the cover off his hidden speeder bike as well as shiny new and he threw the old fabric aside. Kallus had enough foresight and professional paranoia to give the bike a swift but thorough once over for newly planted tracking devices or explosives.

 _Have hope rebel..._ He swallowed and punched the ignition. Alexsandr turned the bike in a tight circle with one boot still among the dusty grass and took off at speed toward distant and glimmering lights.

The weight of his hidden rifle and his only treasure wrapped in an old civilian shirt that belonged to a younger Alexsandr he'd been to weak -no, too human- to throw in an incinerator were his only comforts.

Stars and grass and striped rock spires zipped past and began to whisper their own encouragement into the wind tugging his hair loose from it's Imperial hold, and the collar of his tunic away from the cooling sweat on his neck.

Kallus slowed the engine speed as he approached Capital City; dangerous place for him to be, doubly so with his spying overturned and an execution or capture alive order about to be issued, but if one was to find a ship anywhere...

Imperial forces would detain him at the checkpoint ahead, and something in his gut whispered slickly that the troopers and the city's entrances would not be wearing standard issue white. Alexsandr activated the brakes and let the bike beneath him breeze to a stop, advancing on foot was his only option.

He tucked the speeder close to the road barrier among the tall grasses and took off at a run into the night. The former agent held himself coiled and ready to skid and roll to a hidden stop at the chattering whirs of a probe droid's activation. Security was, after all, something the empire took in great seriousness. Not that they hand any levity in anything to begin with. He didn't know it yet, but Alexsandr missed opportunities for laughter.

The rising disquiet he felt rolling in his guts only squeezed tighter as no probes were activated, and neither was he spotted. Either he had successfully slipped past the city sentry's, or he was being let in.

Kallus pressed his hand against the stone of the perimeter wall, still warm from the daylight sun, and peered upwards. He'd learned a thing or two about climbing whilst trapped several meters down in a sub-zero cave, with a man formerly his enemy.

He couldn't help the small smile that turned the corners of his lips upward as he trailed his eyes up the worn masonry. _Don't climb the walls, go up the pillars..._ No pillars here unfortunately, but at least right at that moment one of his legs was not broken, and nor was his slowly freezing to death. He couldn't name the feeling that dampened his smile, as neither was Spectre Orellios at his side.

Kallus readjusted his satchel once again, and sprang forwards, kicking off the wall to propel himself high enough to dig his fingertips into a long, spidery crack in the sandstone above his head. He grit his teeth until he felt his jaw creak, and pulled himself high enough to reach for the next crag. Perks of standing taller than the average man, the barrier wall seemed far less an imposing obstacle.

He slid over the curved crest of the surrounding wall and skidded down the other side, dropping into a crouch as he landed to peer around the darkened and narrow passages.

He knew these alleyways, he'd walked them into his memory in the low, pink light of dawn.

Lothal truly was beautiful. He hadn't had the thought to admire it before as he should have, too engrossed in catching rebels and saving his own neck from the swing of an Inquisitor's saber. It wasn't until heads had rolled, and the threat of his being next upon the block that he had stumbled as carefully as he could out of the Dome and into the cresting light of a new day. His feet had taken him to the edge of the city and the rising sun and eased some of the numbness that dulled his entire body.

Kallus ducked and weaved his way through the residential roads. It was hard to be inconspicuous even at night when standing well over average height and clad in an ISB regulation uniform. The narrow alleys and roads knotted together like unspooled yarn, and Alexsandr found himself outside the Bridger's old residence, or rather, it's burned out husk.

Something cold settled in the depths of his guts and a sense of somber shame washed over him like cold water. He reached out and placed his hand on the coaly wall, feeling bits of stone dust crumble under his fingers. The Empire was only capable of misery and murder, and whatever he could do to thwart their ravenous expansion he would do without protest. That was, after all, the very least he could do to make amends for all the blood and horrors that stained his hands beneath his tattered gloves.

He flinched at the familiar clack and rattle of storm trooper armour approaching and he ducked behind the crumbling wall, tucking himself into the shadows.

Alexsandr's eyes narrowed to golden slits as he strained to listen through the think of boots and muffled radio static. Rebel comm chatter. His eyes widened. _The Spectres_

The Ghost couldn't be far away. He adjusted the strap of his satchel across his torso and snuck forward from his hiding place to the next ally over.

 _Karabast, these men need more observant training._ Kallus thought with a pang of his old disgust at their lack of attention, as a squad of four men were entirely oblivious to him darting across the courtyard behind them. He was so shocked that the word 'karabast' had come to him so naturally he didn't notice the white glint of storm trooper armour from another alley to his left.

He stumbled with a bitten off shout as the electric stun pulse struck between his armoured shoulders, but Kallus kept running, and grit his teeth against the feeling of his skin beneath the fabric of his tunic begin to prickle and burn.

Shouts echoed behind him and the next shot struck the back of his head, it crackled through his hair and made his vision white out. He didn't hear his own strained cry of pain, but the smell of burning hair choked his breath. Kallus stumbled forwards, blind, and caught himself on a crumbling wall, his torn gloves scrabbled and slipped on the mortar as he staggered along it's length. The last thing he felt was a sudden rush of coal tasting air as he fell forwards into a pile of refuse and lay unmoving where he landed.

The clatter of storm trooper armour grew louder then passed. None of them noticed the body of Alexsandr Kallus, except the little owl swooping across the stony rooftops that came to perch anonymously above him and hooted it's soft call into the dusty air.

*

"These troopers are really out in force!" Sabine yelled over the blast of one of her own colourful explosions.

"Yeah!" Garazeb called back over the ringing shots of his bo-rifle, ducking down beside her to avoid the next volley of blaster fire. "What poor bogan were they after before _we showed_ up?"

Two slim brown boots hopped up onto the crates they hid behind, and Kanan curled his fists to visibly yank the first line of trooper's blasters from their hands with the force. "If they're smart they'll use us as a distraction to get away, and we need to go too."

Zeb and Sabine shared a grin, and took their explosive warpath on the move ahead of him, covering their escape with a fistful of pink grenades and ran, blasting and knocking the fumbling storm troopers down and out.

It was a wonder they still tried, Kanan smirked, ordinary troopers trying to catch a Mandalorian with a jetpack, a Lasat, and a Jedi. It kept them on their toes, at least.

Kanan bounced to an uncertain stop in an empty road and swiveled around, brows pulling together under his mask. The acrid scent of burning filled his nose and patches of heat stung from the earth beneath his boots. Scorch marks scattered the road ahead like fallen leaves, something had happened here and recently.

The Jedi drew a deep breath, extending himself within the force, and _felt._

Someone had run through where he stood, persued, and pain echoed in from the stony walls. Kanan followed the whispers of an unseen path and trailed his fingers through a scuff mark struck across an alley wall, feeling it crumble beneath his feather touch.

The toes of his boots knocked into a sack slumped against a trash pile, sending out a little shockwave of noise and a stink that had his passive expression wrinkle.

He flinched, stepping back in surprise as a tooka stumbled out of the foul smelling heap and collapsed at his feet with a distorted cry. It struggled to stand back upright, unsuccessfully, and it's two long, spotted ears drooped forwards over it's watery eyes.

The Jedi lowered himself into a slow crouch, and gently stroked his fingertips over the loth-cat's sand coloured and leopard spot flank. He pursed his lips and scowled, as either the storm troopers had missed their -likely innocent- target and hit the poor animal, or had gotten bored and shot it on purpose.

Kanan swallowed down his tempering anger, continuing his gentle and soothing touches; his conscience would plague him if he left the loth-cat to suffer in the dust. He scooped the disoriented little creature into his arms, and sprinted away at the sound of trooper comm chatter getting too loud behind him to linger.

He felt his family and the ship ahead, hopeful and home, and darted up the ramp. 'Twelve steps...' Zeb's voice echoed in his head, leading him to the center of the cargo bay.

" _Where's Kanan?_ " Hera's tight voice echoed through the ship from the onboard comm.

"I'm here, let's go!" Kanan called out to the shipwide microphones, and steadied himself as the deck lurched beneath his feet, signalling their hurried ascent.

He blew out a breath as the jarring rumble of breaking atmosphere smoothed into a low hum beneath his boots, and he mapped his way back through the ship towards the ladder.

Scaling the thing one handed wouldn't be especially easy, and he lacked Zeb's prehensile feet to hold on with, but the Jedi would have to do. He smirked, grasping one of the higher rungs, warmly remembering master Bilaba scolding him -laughing in agreement, but the council didn't need to hear that- for complaining about all the things the force should be able to do.

Kanan let go to adjust his careful hold on the injured loth-cat to cradled it safely against his chest, and reached again to scale awkwardly upwards. If no one could see his ascent, then no one could dispute the break in his usual gracefulness.

With both feet were competantly back on solid durasteel, he softly pet his fingers over the little cat's head as it began to fitfully twitch and tremble within his arms.

He tried to ignore the forming knot in his stomach that bled into his mind from the recycled air he breathed. They had all been on edge since Fulcrum's last transmission, warning them about Thrawn's impending attack on Atollon. He could almost taste the bitter tension in the air.

It had taken a lot of meditation and saber practice to soothe Ezra's boiling frustration at their attack on Lothal being thwarted before it could begin for a second time. And Zeb. Zeb had been...prickly.

Ever since they had discovered that their latest Fulcrum had been Agent Kallus, of all possible people, Zeb had acted odd to his transmissions. His ears would fold back and twitch forward again, as though he couldn't stand to hear his old nemesis behind the distorted warble of a scrambler, but didn't want to hear the man's next words be 'Fulcrum out.'

 _In mysterious ways, the force works..._ Kanan snorted, master Yoda was always right somehow.

Their run to the youngest spectre's homeworld had been an on the fly movement, to drop precious supplies to the little resistance that still managed to hold their ground. Lothal had a strong people, and so long as there were sticks and rocks, Ezra's people would fight to be free.

The door hissed open and Hera's muffled shout became distinguishable words.

"- And if he's not going to tell us what the matter is, then he can sulk after he's helped repair the phantom!"

Kanan smirked at Hera's irritated and affectionately dubbed 'mother voice', echoing behind Sabine. He could feel the mandalorian's grin through a warm pull in the force as she descended in search for her foundling elder brother.

Ezra had gone to her for help to get them through the Imperial blockage that remained stationed when the Chimera set her bulk upon Thrawn's warpath, and Sabine had answered their call for help. Along with the last protector of Concord Dawn, Fenn Rau, an honourary Wren.

They had arrived just before they jumped with an escort of her clan's warriors, just before Thrawn and the Imperial Navy appeared above their heads. Both Phoenix cell and Massassi group had all managed to flee to anonymous safety as the first hyperspace warnings blared at their heels.

Kanan's attention returned to their captain at her breathy and tired sigh, her earlier adrenaline turning sourly into a headache.

Hera rubbed at the ridge of her headtails. "That was close, we almost didn't-..." She broke off with a blink at the little furred creature held within the Jedi's folded arms. "Is that a loth-cat?"

"I think he got hit by a blaster shot." Kanan murmured, resuming the soothing strokes of his thumb over it's leg. He could feel no radiating pain besides a few scratches from the creature's tumbling, and the sickening dizziness from the stun round.

Hera held no real love towards tookas, holding them to only a little higher regard than purgill, but Captain Syndulla had compassion enough to rally an army out of thin air.

"Poor little guy." She cooed, delicately stroking the backs of her knuckles over the loth-cat's drooping ears.

A durasteel muffled shout of Sabine's voice echoing from the deck beneath them sundered the moment, and Kanan chuckled as Hera twisted to shout ' _Garazeb Orellios, get back here right now!'_ into the ships onboard comm.

One deck down, and absolutely _not sulking_ , Zeb froze. His tall, feline ears pricked up he and sniffed questioningly at the air. He frowned as he caught the warm scent of fur that wasn't his own.

"What's goin' on, what is that?" He snapped as Sabine rounded the corner, almost smacking face first into his chest.

"Kanan's made a friend!" Sabine laughed ignoring Garazeb's moodiness, and linked her arm around his armoured elbow to pull him towards the common area.

The door hissed open to the sight of Kanan -still in his carved mask- cradling an injured and frazzled looking tooka, it's striped ears drooping and folded forwards.

The Jedi lowered it onto a hastily spread out blanket, and let the twitching creature flop onto it's side.

"What happened?" Sabine asked, her purple dyed hair slipping silkily across her forward as she tipped her head to the side.

"Blaster got him..." Hera murmured, fiddling with a canteen of water.

"Sshh." Ezra hissed, leaning closer to the unconcious loth-cat while flapping his hand at them. "I think he's waking up."

Kallus groaned, head falling forwards and feeling far too heavy as he struggled up onto his hands. Light and sound and too many scents fogged his mind and he winced, recoiling back in on himself.

He froze as his vision began to clear from blinding white, those weren't his hands. Two scaled and four clawed feet opened and closed before his eyes.

 _...this is incorrect._ The little voice in his mind spoke in matter of fact and irritating calmness, and did nothing to soothe Alexsandr's threadbare nerves.

A little bowl tapped too loud against the floor? _table? he_ was sat on, and his eyes followed a green skinned and jumpsuit clad arm upwards to the face of the twi'lek it belonged to.

Captain Syndulla. The spectres. Her ship.

He had wanted to get here, certainly, but with an explanation and the gathered information on his datapad.

Kallus froze, whole body flushing cold as though a bucket of icy water had been doused over his head. _His datapad._ It had been left behind, with his treasure and his bo-rifle and now he had nothing to be of use, just another and traitorous mouth to feed. If the Empire recovered his scant belongings they'd be lost to him forever.

Panic bloomed within the tightness of his chest like fireworks and Kallus scrambled off the table and fell to the floor, backing away. _This isn't right, not at all! And why the kriffing hells am I a CAT!_

The Spectres were all on their feet the moment he hit the durasteel, which was much further down than he anticipated.

"Eeeasy..." Came a soft whisper, directly into the malestrom of his mind and settled his panic like one final ripple smoothing over a pool of water. "...Calm down, that's right..." Kanan's voice was gentling and enveloped him in warmth like the physical embrase of a soft blanket, and Alexsandr felt himself dreamily relax in response.

He didn't entirely register the gentle hands that scooped him off the cold of the floor and cradled him as the world went peacefully dark.

Kanan settled the loth-cat in the crook of his arm, it's little scaled legs dangled down like it slept on a tree's branch.

"Aaw," Sabine stepped forward to gently stroke the back of her fingers between the sleeping cat's ears. Her next words echoed Hera's at Kanan's arrival back at the ship. "Poor little guy."

Zeb's ears flicked back and he glowered from the doorway. His viridescent eyes sourly tracked Kanan's movements as he slipped the cat into a blanket filled crate.

"He should share with you boys when he's better," Hera smirked, her soft green gaze sliding from Ezra over to Zeb, "keep all the fur and prarie dust to one cabin."

"What!" Zeb's teeth flashed and the fur on his bared shoulders began to bristle. "I already have to share with Ezra, now I gotta share with a stinkin' _loth-cat_ too!"

"Hey!" Ezra yelped, and shoved him forcefully, but the Lasat's bulk didn't move far. "He stinks less than you!"

Garazeb growled through his teeth, low and threatening, and his purple ears laid themselves flat against his skull. The scent of burning fur still twisted his guts up tight.

"Boys!" Hera's raised voiced silenced the both of them instantly. "I _said_ , when he's better. For now, he'll stay in here."

All eyes turned back to the leopard spotted tooka, curled up and sleeping peacefully inside the crate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Buh-buh, wuh!" The droid warbled and reached a grabber forward to, strangely gently, pat Kallus on the head.

Gold eyes now black blinked open as Kallus woke slowly.

His spine arched high in a languid stretch and he dug his fingers into the soft blanket he had slept on top of rather than under, but that hardly mattered, as Alexsandr woke feeling warmer than he had in years. He whined into a satisfying yawn that set an ache in his jaw in just the right way; he couldn't recall ever feeling so well rested.

Kallus sank back down, blinking at his hands as his ears drooped in comfort. -Wait?-Alexsandr inhaled sickly through his nose and wrenched his gaze away; those were still not his hands.

He slumped further with a grumble, his new and feline ears laying down the sides of his head as the previous day's events returned to taunt him. Kallus rested his furred chin on his hands, -feet?- with a short sigh through his nose. Somehow, he'd have to find a way back to Lothal to recover his satchel from where it and he had fallen, if it still remained in that heap.

The datapad was the important thing to the rebels, filled with little secrets and complicit hallway chatter, and the bo-rifle should go back where it belonged; perhaps Garazeb could strip away the imperial modifications and find something to identify it to it's previous owner's family.

 _Likely all dead thanks to you._ The voice in his head spat, and Alexsandr winced.

Guilt choked him over the loss of the honoured weapon, but his missing treasure left behind a significant hole in his chest. The meteorite Garazeb had gifted him for warmth on that moon so he wouldn't freeze.

He had clutched that little rock through the reparative surgery on his thigh, and on the lonely limp back to his expressionless and spartan assigned quarters. Afterwards he couldn't bear the thought of throwing it away, and now parted from the little thing he'd readily hand himself over to Thrawn if that's what it took to have it back. That little rock held more warmth and comfort than Kassius and a star destroyer manned by fifty-thousand. Kriff the _mouse droids_ were more personable than that Admiral.

Kallus sighed again, there was some sort of joke to be had about one waking to find themselves transformed into a tooka cat, and retaining their fondness for MSE droids.

He drew a shallow breath -they all seemed too small with new shaped lungs- and risked another look down at what should have been his hands. Four chicken clawed and scaled fingers flexed at his command as real fingers would and Alexsandr sighed again, he could do no harm as an anonymous loth-cat so perhaps he should remain such, if it was within his power. Agent Alexsandr Kallus would be missed by none, _had_ been missed by none, and he'd be capable of causing no more harm amidst the galaxy.

Alexsandr hauled himself unsteadily upon four feet as his stomach began to complain too noisily for him to ignore, and he rocked back to balance on his hind, patting at the rim of the crate to peer into the room outside. There didn't _appear_ to be anyone outside his little guest room. He backed up as far as he could and, wiggling his rear for good measure, leaped upward. His cat's body didn't exactly move like anticipated -having spent the last thirty-five years as a human- and his clawed feet caught the edge, sending both him and the box toppling over. "Rrr-ah!" He gasped, laying winded in a furry heap.

A short and sand coloured nose wrinkled as the daze clearing shake of his head had two inconveniently long ears smack against his face. Kallus snorted in irritation, and flicked those same ears back as he would insubordinate hair grown past Imperial regulation length.

Kallus rocked his weight back up onto his toes, but kept himself low to the ground. As though the sand coloured and spotted pelt of a loth-cat could remain inconspicuous against the drab backdrop of grey durasteel.

He peered around the empty room, lips thinning and a low noise escaping his throat, it was difficult to orient himself so low down, being roughly shin height to his regular self. _Ah-hah!_ He gasped inwardly, his gaze zeroing in on the dejarik table. _High ground._

Kallus felt his ears flick at a muffled sound from below and _that was an odd sensation to get used to_ , as was his nose being a great deal more sensitive. He padded uncertainly forward to lower himself in front of the chair, muscles all coiled like springs, and hoped no one would walk in and witness him making a fool of himself.

He took a breath to steel himself and leaped upwards. He misjudged the jump completely, slamming his chest into the side of the chair and only succeeded instead in managing to knock the breath out of himself. Kallus struggled up the rest of the way to stand on the seat of the chair, his spotted golden fur prickling in embarrassment. He curled up into a tight ball and hid, grumbling, beneath his tail until his itching fur laid itself flat again.

Kallus was alone in his embarrassment for only a few short moments -privacy was apparently a shortcoming of living on such a small ship- as the door on the other side of the room opened with a hiss and a rush of recycled air. Alexsandr cracked one eye open and tracked the young Padawan as he crossed the room, and as he stopped, pulling up with a frown. Ezra turned to stare at Kallus.

The young Jedi chewed on his lower lip and reached forward, his fingers relaxing as his brow furrowed; he always looked far to old to be a boy of sixteen when the force took a stronger hold back once he opened the way.

At the first brush of mental fingers Kallus' fur stood on its ends. He spat and tore his sunken claws out of the fabric of the seat to swipe at the Bridger boy; he'd had an inquisitors slippery barbs probe his mind and he didn't much care for it. The thought alone had an icy feeling grip his feeble bones.

Ezra's eyes snapped open again and he scrambled away with a yelp, sucking away the sting of where Alexsandr's claws had caught him across his fingers.

"Ow! _Karabast!_ " He swore around his finger and blindly punched the door control and stumbled backwards into the corridor.

Kallus felt his stiffened fur begin to relax as the door shut, an odd prickly sensation that made the fine strands ripple like the grasses of Lothal's praries and he curled up again, but this time the former agent kept his ears pricked.

Near silence was his roommate and the lulling white noise of life support and critical systems hummed him towards the beckoning nothingness of sleep. That had been a rarity aboard the Chimera, or anywhere on Lothal; too close to Thrawn and his all seeing and seething red eyes, too close to Pryce and her predator's snarl and late night hunts to the detention cells. Kallus shivered, and buried his face under the blanket of his tail. At least here the room was warm.

Alexsandr cracked his eye open and peered over his tail at the door once again parting with a hydrolic gasp. The droid rolled in.

The CP unit hummed and droned, scanning the room with his grabbers shielding his visual sensors as though he were a great explorer gazing over a new horizon. The droid did a comical double take at th loth-cat staring impassively across the room.

As he had said before, and indeed meant every word of, the CP unit currently sizing him up was quite efficient, and Kallus held a healthy respect for droids, doubly so in this particular droid's case, given the maniacal little bastard's temperament. Kallus sat up straight, and blinked directly into the droid's 'eyes' respectfully.

"Wah-wah?" Chopper asked after another moment of silence, swiveling the rest of his cylindrical body towards Kallus and miming a shrug.

Kallus froze, tail mid way towards wrapping around his feet, as deviousness and no small amount of satisfaction coiled within his belly. _I see..._ He stood and rose one foot to point at the door Ezra had backpedaled out of.

"Buh-buh, wuh!" The droid warbled and reached a grabber forward to, strangely gently, pat Kallus on the head.

Chopper rolled away towards the door and Kallus couldn't suppress the wince at the squeak and squeal from his poorly maintained wheels.

" _Wuuuuhh..?_ " Chopper drawled conspiratorially, beckoning him forward. Kallus grinned as much as a loth-cat could and joined the droid in his galavant down the narrow corridor in search of his favourite victim.

Kallus paused, rocking over the edge of the chair, judging the distance, he wouldn't be foiled again. His feet hit the cold floor and he tensed in anticipation of the sudden jarring of the drop but nothing came. _Hm._ Kallus straightened up, testing his joints. _More durable than I expected..._

He bounded after the droid.

Chopper stopped, then resumed his steady rolling inch by inch, creeping as much as a rusting droid could along a metal corridor, towards Bridger.

Ezra was leaning on the frame of an open door, chatting idly, and from the bright spashes of visible colour the room in question belonged to the crew's resident Mandalorian, Sabine Wren.

Kallus wrinkled his nose to the acrid and cloying smell of paint wafting down the corridor. His freckled left ear flicked and he trilled softly; a brow would have ticked up in it's place if he still had them.

He was content to watch the incoming mayhem from a respectable distance, even with the general anonymity of the form of a wild loth-cat, he would not enter her room without express permission.

The droid rolled up behind Ezra's back, pinching his grabbers in malicious anticipation, and clamped his 'hands' shut around the sensitive flesh of the boy's sides and shocked him.

"AAH- _OW_! Chopper!"

"Rhrr hrrah-ah!" Kallus chattered, snorting and grinning wide. Bridger deserved it, sweet recompense for all the times the young Jedi had flung him into rocks, walls, crates, and storm troopers.

The droid warbled it's unsettling imitation of laughter and pivoted on the spot to wheel away at speed, and Kallus was too preoccupied gleefully watching his retreating cylinder disappear from view to spring away himself, before two hands grabbed him around the middle.

Alexsandr hissed and spat in panicked outrage of being manhandled and lifted bodily off the ground, then froze in sudden shock when something clicked shut around his neck.

"That'll save my fingers..." The Bridger boy muttered from -disorientingly- somewhere above him, fearing for the safety of his uninjured hand.

As soon as Kallus was unceremoniously dropped back on his feet he scrambled against the wall, fiercely shaking his head but the more he struggled the louder the bell rang. The golden plume of his tail wrapped itself protectively around his legs.

He didn't hear the crackling of voices through the shipwide comms, all he wanted to do was get the sith-damned thing off.

He cracked his eyes open as soon as they were gone, unaware he had clenched them shut, and his breath stuttered in and out in unsteady wheezes, fearing the little metal ball nestled amongst the fur of his chin. Alexsandr bolted down the corridor in search for whichever corner would be the furthest away from those who would deliver what he was truly worth.

On the floor above Garazeb yawned, a loud and whining echo that flashed all of his sharp teeth. He wiggled his ears as he snapped his jaws together, and _that_ , was a satisfying sound that he relished every time. Made waking up worth it. And breakfast.

"What happened ter _you_?" Zeb drawled, eyeing his younger brother's bacta bandaged fingers as Ezra shouldered his was through the narrow door.

Ezra glared up at him through narrowed blue eyes, and shook his wounded hand in attempt to alleviate the aching soreness. "The cat scratched me..."

Zeb sniggered. "Good cat. _Oof-_ " He gasped as a hard shove from his brother had him stagger. Well, hard from a stalk armed kit. Zeb shoved him back with a roughened laugh.

"Alright," Hera's voice commanded silence, and all focus snapped respectfully to her. The boys untangled themselves and sidestepped away from each other, lest Hera catch them in the act of misbehaving and banish them to scrub the hull.

"Once we touch down, Kanan and I will find Sato's informant. Ezra, Sabine. You take Chopper, and go look for the fuel cells."

"Got it!" Sabine grinned, and settled her painted helmet over her head. Zeb smiled; his little sister and possible explosives...

He blinked as Hera didn't continue. Zeb's voice was uncertain as he wasn't usually left until last. "An' what about me?"

"You stay here, Zeb."

"What?" The Lasat's striped fur bristled, "Why do _I_ have to stay on the ship?"

Hera sighed, and reached up to soothingly pet her fingers through the fur of his beard.

"You're too noticable, Zeb. There are a lot of twi'leks on this station, and the Empire won't pay any special attention to three more humans."

Zeb conceded that she did, in fact, have a point. He would grouch and complain like a man twice his years, but ultimately, Garazeb would do as he was told. He sighed softly through his nose, and stepped back.

Zeb watched with flattened ears as they all disembarked without him.

"...And feed the cat!" Hera called back over her shoulder along with a flick of a lekku.

Garazeb rolled his eyes, alone in the monotonous hum of the low power systems and bleaching lights. He turned on his toes with another sigh, and stomped to the cupboard in search of the packet rations they kept for emergencies.

"Garazeb Orrelios..." He muttered, snagging the foil on his claws. "Honour guard, feared rebel, baby hunter, _cat minder_. The list grows." He groused with his ears laid flat, as he upturned the packet to dump the ration onto a shallow dish.

He keyed the door control, and frowned at the toppled crate and the fur dusted blanket that spilled out onto the hard floor. "Cat?"

He sniffed at the air, ears twitching. The problem with consistently breathing recycled air, all the strange scents got blown around the place. Zeb growled low in annoyance. With his nose apparently out of commission, it was up to his ears to find the blasted creature.

He reached the opposite door, still sniffing around for good measure, and listened through the pressurized creak of metal for any other odd noise.

Viridescent eyes caught the discoloured scratch marks against the floor, left behind by tiny frantic claws. Garazeb's heavy brow furrowed and he slowly paced forward, following the little trail of scrapes towards the upper deck of the cargo hold.

Zeb's frown deepened and he peered down the ladder. There were more scratches, these ones fainter then the others, but still visible to his sharp eyes. More scratches. The Lasat sighed, adjusting his grip on the dish to cover the loose food with the leathery pad of his palm and swung himself over the railing. He landed down on the cargo bay floor in a deft crouch, his flexible knees taking the jolt with ease.

Kallus' ears pricked up at the sound.

"Here, cat..." The familiar and unimpressed voice of Spectre Four echoed around the cargo bay, followed by a long and suffering sigh. "Here, loth-kitty."

Kallus' ears flicked back, and by the shadow on the wall, so did Garazeb's.

Kallus backed further into the crate until he bumped back into the base of it. He startled at the sudden touch and his little jolt had that infernal bell jangling again under his chin. He hunkered down, ears flat, until the ringing stopped.

"Cat?" Zeb called again, stepping closer to the noise. He blew out a slow breath through his nose at the desperate, backpedaling scrabble of claws coming from an overturned crate.

The metal dish Zeb was carrying tapped against the deck as he placed it gently down, and he dropped into a crouch in front of Kallus' hiding place. Two wide black and frightened eyes stared back.

"What's that?" Zeb murmured, tilting his head, and blinking to settle his eyes to the low light. "The kits stick a collar on yer? Well that's what yer get for causin' trouble." He admonished, "Even if the litt'l loth-rat deserves it sometimes."

His green gaze softened at the faint echo of a distinctly pathetic mewl coming from the inside of the crate. Zeb never liked seeing collars on animals, it reminded him too much of those non-human prisons and wookies in shock collars. A twinkly little bell was a dull, musical sound to human ears, but distinctly unpleasant to his and any being with sharper senses.

"A'right. I'll take that thing off, but you gotta promise to behave yer'self from now on."

Kallus crawled forwards, slowly to not disturb the threatening little bell again, to the entrance of his crate. He blinked uncertainly up at the Lasat, then dipped his head in a nod."...mrr-ow..."

Zeb froze with his hands hovering. He shook himself after a moment, his feline ears flopping with the motion, and muttered lowly to himself about the effects of huffing too much recycled air.

He sighed, and shook his head again. "Oh, c'mere then. Let me get that off'a'yer."

Kallus' ears flattened, braced for another grating noise, but nothing came except the click of the clasp holding the collar around his neck slipping free.

Garazeb hooked a claw around the bell, muffling the clacker, and threw the little collar away to the other side of the bay. It landed with a muffled ring behind some food crates.

Kallus froze for an instant, then slunk forwards to rubbed against Zeb's furred shins, his foreign thanks rattling deep within his throat. Garazeb tensed, staring down at the little creature showering tentative affection on his ankles.

"Heh..." Zeb reached down slowly to pat the purring loth-cat on its head. "Good-...good cat..."

He cleared his throat, shrugging off the moment of uncertain contact, and tapped a claw against the side of the dish. "C'mon. Hera says you gotta eat."

Kallus froze, staring incredulously at the dish of packet scraps, then slid his steely gaze up to glower at the Lasat.

"What?" Garazeb glared, and scooped the dish up again. "You too good to eat on the floor like regular cats? Fine, come on, kitchen's this way."

Garazeb sighed, of course Kanan would bring back a kriffing cat with an attitude, and lead the way back to the ladder with the loth-cat bounding along at his ankles.

"Rhrr-ah!" Kallus chattered indignantly, stamping the steel under his feet. He'd managed to fall _down_ the ladder, he wouldn't be able to fall back up it again. He hissed in response to Zeb's eye roll.

"...Come 'ere." The Lasat sighed in short tempered exasperation, reaching to curl his fingers around Kallus' middle.

Alexsandr's new long, spotted ears laid themselves flat against his skull, so much so that the fluffy tips brushed the disks of his shoulders. Zeb yanked his hands away at the flash of the cat's needlelike teeth, his own ears flicking to the sides.

" 's okay! It's okay." Garazeb soothed, he had no love of being restrained either. He drew a hand across his face, pinching the high bridge of his flat nose, and dropped down into a crouch. "A'right, look. I gotta lift you up, an' I promise, I'll put you back down again once we reach the top."

Kallus blinked. A little light behind his eyes made itself remembered, and Kallus couldnt hear his own faint thrumming vocals over the phantom feel of hungry ice and warm rock. Garazeb had been extraordinarily amicable towards a man formerly his enemy, -Kallus felt his ears droop in shame- he could do no less than match his worthy once rival's straight forward and open honesty.

"Brr-ow." He trilled, tipping his head to the side, a soft and toothy smile softening his perpetual glower. _Well this is starting to feel a little familiar, don't you agree?_

Garazeb blinked into the distance and Kallus watched the corners of his plush lips twitch upward, and Zeb reached up to rub at the back of his neck. One purple ear flicked low. "Heh. I think I've said that before..."

He swiveled, one knee dropping to rest against the bay floor to keep balanced, and lowered himself a little further.

"Time to go..." Zeb said with a sing-song chuckle rumbling in his subvocals, a little joke for his ears only, and bowed forward enough for the tooka to spring up onto his back. The Lasat flicked his ears in mild annoyance at the added weight of the loth-cat clinging to his battlesuit pulled it down, the collar of it beginning to press uncomfortably against his throat.

Zeb reached around his ribs to cup the loth-cat's rear and scoot the little creature higher up onto his shoulders.

Kallus growled uncertainly at the rocking lurch of Zeb rising to stand again and held on tight, reaching his little forelegs as far around Garazeb's neck as he could get them.

 _Well_ , Kallus thought as he held tight to the Lasat's shoulders as he had done before, and as the other man sized up the narrow ladder. _At least this time I'm not freezing to death._

Their jolting climb had Kallus' guts twist, but he did trust the one who was scaling them higher, gripping the rungs one handed then hopping up to grab the next one.

Alexsandr's despair seemed at that moment a passing thunder cloud instead of an all consuming oppressive smother in the safety of Zeb's grip. _You're going to hurt yourself..._ He purred, lowering his chin to rest gently against Garazeb's shoulder pad.

With both feet back on solid durasteel, they both let out sighs of relief. Garazeb flexed his hand.

"A'right, cat, down yer get." He rumbled, kneeling low enough for the loth-cat to hop down. "At least this time here there's no hungry monsters."

Kallus' eyes widened a little at the low rumble of Zeb's stomach. " 'cept for me." The Lasat chuckled, shaking himself, and lead Kallus back to their little galley.

Alexsandr's expression scrunched up at the buffetting rush of air blasting against his face as the door opened. He blinked his eyes back open, then narrowed them as he spotted his newfound nemesis taunting him from across the room; chairs.

"C'mere, Ka- _uhh_ \- cat! Foods here." Zeb rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand and he placed the dish of rations down on the tables top. He hesitated with his hip resting against the table just long enough for his fur to start to ripple before retreating to the chiller, his head ducked down behind the muscled shield of his shoulders.

Kallus peered up at Zeb in questioning curiosity. He had begun to undertand * _that_ * prickling feeling as embarrassment to one with fur. He watched the Lasat fiddle with something across the room and -for the moment at least- was more than content to keep his back turned.

Kallus shook himself and sized up the chair, flexing his claws readily for the climb. He backed up and tried to surpress the urge to wiggle his hind in preparation, still grateful Garazeb had his back turned, and bounded forwards in three long pounces.

He had, unfortunately, _still_ not mastered the art of jumping with four legs, and he once again collided with the side of the seat. He growled and yelped at the pull in his fingers, but he still managed to haul himself up with more dignity than his first attempt. Garazeb had not noticed his fumble, and for that Alexsandr was supremely grateful. The Lasat was focused on pouring something wet and sweet smelling into a metal box, and the sizzle of cold batter on hot metal sang through the recycled air.

Kallus turned his attention to his own plate and curled his claws around one of the little chunks of fish, gnawing on it selfconsciously. After so long surviving on ration bars, real food -even the dried stuff- felt strange to chew.

His ears flicked as Zeb slid his plate onto the table at the chair opposite, the thing piled high with bready food and shining syrup. Zeb shifted on his feet for another moment then slowly slid into his seat.

They stared at each other, cautious, and them both poised to spring away. Hunger out won awkwardness and Garazeb shook himself suddenly, muttering to himself in his people's tongue.

"Never seen a Loth-cat that looks an' acts like you before." Zeb said conversationally despite the hesitation hanging like a mynock above them, and took a bite out of a waffle. "You somebody's pet?"

 _That's all I was to the empire. A pet, a toy soldier, a number in a system of millions more._ Kallus growled, lips curling to reveal his sharp needle teeth.

Zeb snorted and swallowed loud enough for Kallus to hear from across the table. "A free man, huh. Well, a free man needs a name, can't rightly call you 'cat' or 'tooka'. Feels dishonourable."

Zeb flashed a lopsided smile and reached across the table to gently run a claw over Kallus' furrier cheek. "Yer kinda look like someone, it's that daft little beard."

 _I beg your kriffing pardon!_ Alexsandr growled, feeling his ears flatten.

The Lasat laughed, and held up his hands placatingly. "Alright, I meant no offence to yer!.. Yer _do_ look like him though..."

_Really? Well I quite suspect I do, Garazeb._

"Kallus..." Alexsandr almost choked. Across the table, Zeb wrinkled his nose. "Nah, that's too weird. But it's going to bug me."

Zeb dragged his four claws thoughtfully through his beard.

"Tookal... Tookallus!" He rocked back in his chair with a bark of laughter, and reached to scratch behind one of the loth-cat's long ears. "Tookallus," he repeated with a low chuckle. "Too proper to sit on anything except a chair."

Kallus hunkered down on the chair seat at the echo of approaching voices.

"Huh." Zeb mumbled around a swallow. "That didn't take long."

The door wooshed open and Ezra froze, balking at the low angry noise from the small, equally angry loth-cat. He jolted forward bodily as Sabine walked blindly into the back of him.

Sabine peered over her brother's shoulder and her surprised bark of laughter brought all eyes to her. "W...why is the _cat_ sat at the table."

Garazeb cleared his throat. "Becaaause," Sabine snorted at his attempt at a Coruscanti upper accent, and caught her foundling brother's wink with a wider grin of her own. "Tookallus is a _distinguished gentleman_ , who will only eat off a table." He scooped up his own empty plate with a rough and rumbling laugh.

Ezra drew a deep and centering breath through his nose and pressed his hands together in front of his mouth. "You." He pointed his clasped hands at Zeb along with his words. "Named the cat. _Kallus!?_ "

"Yeah? Look at 'is little sideburns, it feels wrong to call him anything else." The Lasat called back over his shoulder with an affirmative shrug.

Ezra remained frozen in the narrow doorway, staring at the cat, unmoving.

"What is it, Ezra?" Kanan asked, his voice low and coaxing, and stepped forward to lay a hand gently on the boy's shoulder.

The little Jedi turned to frown up at him, and waved his hand frantically at the cat. "I just...I can't _connect_ with it, Kanan. It's just like those spiders back on Atollon, it's _evil!_ "

Several pairs of eyes turned to the Loth-cat sat politely at the table.

"Maybe yer just a _bad Jedi_ " Zeb sniggered, prompting another loud snort of laughter from Sabine. His ears wiggled in satisfaction.

Hera chuckled and shook her head, her pale green lekku swaying with the motion. How was one little loth-cat causing so much trouble by doing nothing.

"Alright, we've got a mission to prep for." She hailed to the room, her hands set on her narrow hips and her Captain's command ringing loud. "All of you, go and get ready, we're to rendezvous with the rest of Phoenix cell first."

Kanan nodded towards her glow in the force, both gentle warmth and searing fire, and he caught her hand as she passed. Gently, he bought her knuckles to his lips, smiling against her fingers at her quiet chuckle. Hera's delicate hand slipped free from his fingers and he felt the soft pass of air as the door closed behind her.

The blind Jedi waited until the room had cleared and all footsteps receded towards their own cabins. He turned his sightless eyes and incorrigibly smug grin on the awkward loth-cat.

"Hey Kallus."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That little bow, the first crack in the mortar to send his walls crumbling, baring every atrocity to his eyes. Chase the answers, agent, and maybe you'll find the truth

The door to the cockpit hissed open under the command of his thumb, and Kanan stepped inside. He held two steaming mugs of caf by the handles in the grip of one hand, and he counted his steps until he was close enough to slide down into the copilot's chair. 

Hera raised a brow at her husband but accepted the mug of fresh caf he held out to warm her hands. "Thank you love." She paused before taking a sip. "What are you smiling at?"

The blind Jedi took a long swallow of his own, sweetened caf, and took his time licking the residual sweetness from his lips. 

"Kanan, what is it?" He could hear her smiling faintly through a frown. 

It wasn't difficult to imagine the tilt to her delicate chin or the weighted sway of her patterned lekku against her shoulders. Or the way she would gasp and shiver at the press of lips behind one of her pointed ears, squirming in giggling complaint about the tickling hairs of his now full beard.

Kanan cleared his throat and ran his tongue over his lips again, shaking those thoughts away for later. "Soooo, you know our guest?" 

To his left, Hera sighed, but from the lilt to her breath she was outright grinning now. "Yes Kanan, he's hard to miss for being so little. Why, what about him?"

"Do you think he looks a little bit... familiar?" He rolled his head to the side and his foggy eyes lingered on where he remembered her summertime green eyes to be. There was no keeping the humour out of his voice now and oh, he was enjoying this.

"...Now that you mention it, love, he does almost resemble… wait."

"Hmph. I wonder what they're laughing at." Ezra groused, fumbling with the tearaway foil on a ration bar and glaring towards the cockpit door.

"Who are you asking, me or him?" Sabine said with a smirk, her fork of noodles halfway to her mouth. 

"Huh?" The younger Jedi blinked his solar blue eyes at his self appointed elder sister, who grinned and tipped her head towards the loth-cat sat unmoving and staring right at him from across the table.

Sabine snorted and swallowed. "Are staring contests with loth-cats a common sport back on your homeworld?"

"No." He muttered petulantly, squinting in his effort not to blink. Kallus sat unfazed, though secretly enjoying how easy it was to make the Bridger boy squirm. 

Ezra gave up on trying to deshell the bar and slapped it down on the table under his hand. "Are you just going to stare at me forever?" 

Kallus, at last, blinked. _I might do, yes. Try and open that packet again. It amuses me._

The opposite door opened and the shadow of their eldest Sabine appointed brother fazed through the gap.

"Hey, Tookallus." Zeb greeted, as he sidestepped through the narrow door, giving the cat a light pat on the head as he passed on his way to snatch a quick snack for himself.

"Brr-ow!" The loth-cat trilled back, remaining completely still except to stretch up against Zeb's huge hand.

" 'ey, Beanie." Garazeb purred, leaning down to bump his brow against the back of her head. The contact was far rougher than he would with another of his species in loving greeting, but nothing said 'hi, how're yer doin'?' to a Mandalorian quite like an affectionate, nose bruising headbutt.

His eyes flicked over to Ezra. "Problem child…"

The Lothalian teenager's snarky return was curbed into a yelp as Kallus hunched, then sprang up onto Garazeb's shoulder, the littler Jedi still fearing for the integrity of his fingers.

Kallus settled himself across those mighty shoulders, peering deviously down at the Bridger boy. He purred softly and leaned in to the gentle claw scratching through the thicker, blond fur covering one of his cheeks.

"Yer hungry, Tookallus?" The little loth-cat shook his head.

Zeb continued to scratch his claws gently through the fur of Kallus' face, petting through the short, sensitive fur above his nose and over his forehead between his contentedly flicking ears. Kallus sank lower and kneaded the ballistic fabric and fur covering the Lasat's shoulder, purring loudly.

Alexsandr had no idea that simple physical touch could feel so good.

The ship around them shuddered as they docked with their command ship.

Hera's voice rang out from the corridor that led to the airlock. "Alright everyone, gear up! It's time to go."

"Stay here, Tookal." Zeb scratched gently through the ruff of fur at the base of the loth-cat's neck, and carried him over to the dejarik table to sit him on a chair. "We'll be back soon. Be good."

Kallus cried his farewell as the door closed, leaving him alone in the ship. He sat slowly, one ear tilted up as his meow echoed back.

He found himself strangely in good spirits, in spite of everything. 

_To think_ , he mused pacing the room with a happy lilt to the voice in his head. _All the times I chased this ship, all the trouble it gave me. And now..._

He sat himself neatly, and wrapped his thick tail around his feet.

_...I'm in command of it._

He had no way up to the cockpit or to activate any doors, but this little adrift room was -for the moment- his piece of the galaxy.

 _Nothing left to do but_ -Alexsandr stretched out his thin, scaled legs until he slid down onto his belly- _wait_. He blinked suddenly, ears pointing towards the ceiling lights, and certain he had heard those words before.

He shook himself and settled, slipping into that comforting void of sleep, and dreamed of chasing Bridger.

*

The sound of the door hissing open jolted Alexsandr back to waking and Zeb slogged back through the door, the Lasat's feline ears drooped low. He ignored Kallus' questioning cries and keyed his way through the opposite door towards the sleeping cabins.

_That's not right..?_

Kallus' claws skittered against the metal floor as he skidded to a halt in front of the sealed door, his chattering and wails went unanswered from the man who had left him and his family in the room behind.

It was only then that he acknowledged the hushed voices from behind.

"-he might still be alive..."

Sabine dragged her painted fingernails through her hair, her touch just as ragged as her breath.

"I don't know, he's Kallus!" She dropped her hands to the table. "But Zeb..." The mandalorian looked at the door after him, worrying her lower lip in her teeth.

_Garazeb?_

"He's been acting weird since that moon."

 _That moon_. Kallus shivered as the voracious cold of that hellscape still stung him, even now. 

That little bow, the first crack in the mortar to send his walls crumbling, baring every atrocity to his eyes. _Chase the answers, agent, and maybe you'll find the truth_. He had. And he was not above admitting some sickening truths had been quite literal. It had felt correct, in a way, that even his body had started to reject what the Empire had fed him all his career. 

_He thinks I'm dead..._

Kallus cried, and scraped his claws across the durasteel bulkhead door. He turned and wailed again but none of the assembled spectres paid him any attention. 

Ezra shrugged, looking lost, gazing from one of his family to the other. "Should we go and..?"

"No." Kanan squeezed the boy's shoulder, and Ezra relaxed at the grounding certainty of his master's touch. "Leave him be for a while."

Kanan's hand slid from the boy's shoulder as he stepped away towards where Kallus hovered nearby.

He lowered himself to kneel on the floor, his presence to Kallus was a mixture of soothing calm and screeching anxiety simultaneously. The blind Jedi smiled down at Kallus and reached to stroke his fingers over the loth-cat's shoulders. "You too. Come on." 

Alexsandr didn't fight the gentle hands that scooped him carefully off his feet, and let himself be held against the warmth of the other man's narrow chest. He had shrugged off his sense of dignity the moment the Jedi had revealed his knowledge of who he was.

He scrabbled up to lay on his belly over Kanan's shoulder, staring longingly at the door, and after the somber man who had hidden himself behind it.

*

A thick shaft of white corridor light illuminated the dark of the room as Ezra smacked the door's activation, his face a mask of irritated impassiveness. 

"The cat's been screeching for you _for hours.._." 

Zeb grunted and rolled over. One would have believed he was still asleep, were it not for his ears, flattened back against his skull.

Alexsandr stepped forwards tentatively, he hadn't been invited in, but neither had been told to get out. He knew well that guilt and loneliness went poorly together. 

"Mrrp?" Kallus hopped up onto the thin mattress of Zeb's bunk behind the muscular wall of his back.

Green eyes flashed in the low light as Zeb peered grumpily over the huge striped mound of his shoulder.

Neither of them noticed nor cared for Ezra's muffled muttering as he keyed the door closed again, leaving them alone in the gloom.

"Still awake, huh?" Zeb said, keeping his voice a low rumble.

 _As are you_ , Alexsandr thought, crawling closer. "Mrrah?"

"I just..." Zeb rolled into his back with narrowed eyes and rubbed at his temples, soothing away an apparent headache. "Just been thinking, y'know?" 

_A dangerous pastime, can I help?_ "Rrr-hr?"

"It's..." Garazeb sighed. "It's Kallus." Alexsandr froze at the near distraught look on the Lasat's face, looking so out of place from what he thought of himself. 

"Command got another transmission, while we were still on Lothal. Empire's found him out."

"I used to hate the guy, but after that ice moon, then saving my family an' bein' a spy for us...I don't know. He's not the same guy. I want to see 'im again..." He added, quieter, his ears folding low into such an un-Garazeb like expression of vulnerability Alexsandr wasn't sure what to do.

"I keep hearin' that last message over an' over. Empire don't like traitors, least of all happenin' right under that *blue bastard's* nose." Another sigh, and Zeb thumped his head back against the pillow, his snarl smoothing over.

"I hope that poor bogan's alright."

 _"Brrp-rrh?"_ Kallus took another tentative step closer, balancing on the warmth of the Lasat's chest.

_Oh, Garazeb. Dear, dangerous, honourable Garazeb, I'm here. I'm right here, safe..._

Zeb hummed a quiet, sad laugh, and scratched a claw behind one of the loth-cat's long ears. "Yer a good cat, ain't'cha?"

Kallus felt his expression fall. He was a far better cat than a man. He pressed forward and hid his face selfishly in the safety of Garazeb's palm. 

"C'mere, Tookal..." Zeb purred, gathering the loth-cat onto his chest and curling his massive hands around it's trembling body.

Zeb sighed heavily, and let his head fall back against the bunk's mattress, his feline ears drooping low in anguish. "We could have saved 'im…"

They fell asleep together in the dark of Zeb's cabin, two adrift and purring body's curled close against the galaxy's cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Force nonsense turns Kallus into a tooka cat. Yeah that's all this is. Have Fun!


End file.
